


maybe i'm just a ghost

by katebishops



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katebishops/pseuds/katebishops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident leaves Steve in his tiny body, he notices someone has been trying to take care of him anonymously by leaving presents in his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe i'm just a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from coldplay's song, "ghost story".
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own any of the characters or movies, as much as i wish i did.
> 
> a million thanks to [Raeych](http://raeych.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this!

Steve opened his eyes, feeling very sore and out of breath. His body felt all tight and shrunken and his vision was all fuzzy and the first face that swam in his vision, Natasha’s, didn’t seem quite right. No…it wasn’t her face, it was her hair. The brilliant red he knew it was seemed muted and gray-ish. He groaned and put his hand up to his aching head. “What happened?”

Another face came into his field of view. “Well, Capsicle, it seems that you’ve sort of, well, that is to say, not that this is my fault _in any way_ ,” Stark looked pointedly to the side at that, and someone Steve couldn’t see snorted. “But, y’know, I am a genius so of course any robots I build are therefore geniuses and so,”

Steve tuned him out. His rambling wasn’t helping his headache. It almost sounded nervous, like Steve would get mad at him, but he couldn’t think of why he’d be mad at Tony. Last he remembered, he was fighting some Ultrons and The Vision – which, okay, were definitely reason to be mad at him, but no more so than the rest of the team – when all of a sudden his body had begun to hurt and he didn’t know why. He sighed. It looked like he’d have to endure Tony’s pointless talking to get to the bottom of what had happened to him.

“But hey, the good thing is we won! Yes, finally we beat Ultron and he’s gone so now we can focus on, well, you. And with that, I need another organic, homemade energy drink because fighting evil robots bent on world domination sure does take a lot out of a guy; we can’t all have super soldier serum. Not that you uh, I mean, anymore, I just. Our resident, part-time Jolly Green Giant here can take over, right?”

Steve suddenly felt like someone had thrown ice water over him, and had a very good idea about why exactly Nat’s hair looked wrong and why his body felt so small. He took a deep breath and looked down at himself. Sure enough, he was back to being 5’4” and maybe one hundred pounds on a good day. He took another deep breath and tried to stay calm. Tony went off to get more of his green sludge, which was good because Steve was about to throw him into a wall, even without his super soldier strength. He sat up and looked around. The whole team seemed to be there, most of them standing around with anxious expressions on their faces. Luckily, Bruce was calm enough to explain everything.

“Don’t worry; we’re already working on fixing it and getting you back to your old...well, old-new body. What seems to have happened is Ultron found your DNA code, because yes Tony keeps all of ours in his computer system, and found a way to un-write the work that Erskine’s serum did to your DNA.” At that, Jane looked up from the microscope she had been using.

“We’ll need some cell samples of your DNA like this,” she said. “Blood, urine, hair – nothing too invasive, I promise.”

Steve sighed. “That sounds okay, I guess.”

Worried, Natasha stepped forward and gently stroked his hair. Steve was used to people unconsciously treating him somewhat like a child while he was tiny, he just wasn’t used to people who weren’t Bucky or his ma doing it. Not that they were viable caretakers right now, obviously with his ma in heaven (God rest her soul) and a man who used to be Bucky running around the globe doing who knows what. “Are you sure you guys are the right choice for this?” she asked. “No offense, guys, none of us think you aren’t absolutely brilliant. But this seems like something we’d need a biologist or a geneticist for. Not a nuclear physicist, an astrophysicist and a…whatever Stark is.” She turned to Clint. “You don’t think…”

He sighed heavily, already reaching for his cell phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give her a call. She might do it for Captain America.” He stepped out of the room and awkwardly walked around Tony, who was coming back in with his health drink.

“Who’s Robin Hood over there calling?”

“His ex-wife,” replied Natasha. Before Tony could follow that line of questioning, Steve spoke up.

“So, um, since I’ll be stuck like this for the foreseeable future, I guess I should look into getting one of those inhalers? And some medicine for my other conditions?” Everyone in the room nodded, agreeing that that was probably the best course of action right now. There wasn’t much else that any of them who weren’t Tony or Bruce could do right then.

“I’ll go with you,” Sam volunteered, walking over to the tiny captain. “God knows I could use a break from Stark’s terrible bird puns anyway.” They quickly left the room, tuning out Stark’s immediate and vehement protests that his puns were _hilarious_ , dammit.

 

* * *

 

Life continued on. The scientists were now working with Dr. Bobbi Morse, an accomplished and brilliant biologist who had somehow survived being married to Barton. They had also been getting help fairly often from a biochemist on Coulson’s team via video conference, but still it seemed like every time they had a break through, another problem came up. Steve didn’t really mind too much. There weren’t any missions he was needed for and he had gotten used to his small body within a day of having it back; it was, after all, the one he had spent most of his life with. Modern medicine meant that the health problems he had to deal with before the war were much more manageable. Still, his team tended to get just a touch too overprotective. It had to explain the extra blanket Steve found folded next to his bed one night. It was soft and warm and red, but it also wasn’t his. He had never seen it before in his life.

“Natasha,” he said the next morning, when they met for brunch. “I know I’m all skinny and get cold a lot more easily, but my place has great heating. The blankets I already have are more than enough.”

She was pouring an unhealthy, Barton-sized amount of syrup on her pancakes but paused when he had finished speaking and looked up, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

That’s odd, Steve thought. He was sure it had been Natasha. Still, Sam or Bruce or – well, any of his team, really – were just as likely suspects. They had probably swung by his Brooklyn apartment; it was within a half hour of Stark’s tower that most of them were staying at. It was a little strange that whoever left the cozy blanket didn’t at least stay to say hi, but maybe they had other things to do. He dropped the matter, seeing as it wasn’t really important.

The next day, he went to the tower to help the four scientists with their tests by contributing blood, hair, and urine samples. He tried to thank each one individually for the blanket. Bobbi had shaken her head, her long blonde hair going everywhere, and said she didn’t even know where he lived. Bruce had looked at him blankly. Jane had been too frazzled with a possible breakthrough in a project she had been doing on the side to pay attention. Tony had asked if he had had the blanket all along but his old man brain had forgotten about it, and then proceeded to make age jokes for the rest of the day. Steve regretted asking any of them.

 

* * *

 

But things like that kept happening. An extra blanket one night, some cold medicine on his nightstand the next (even though he didn’t have a cold). On Thursday, it was warm enough that Steve decided to leave the window in his bedroom open while he slept. Back when he was growing up, he wouldn’t have dared to. The apartments he shared with his ma and later Bucky both had very poor heating and his blankets were not thick enough to really keep him warm. Now he easily could enjoy some fresh air, which he was excited about. But when he woke up the next morning, someone had shut it. Now this was getting kind of creepy, but without his super soldier hearing he knew a very determined Avenger could easily sneak into his room (most of them had keys and either way, most of them were also trained in subterfuge) and shut it. The question was, why?

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until three weeks after the first mysterious blanket that he figured it out. About a month after being forced into his tiny body, he arrived back home from spending a few hours with Clint and his friend Kate (“I have to babysit Clint this afternoon.” “Hey!”) teaching him and Thor what exactly Mario Kart was and how to play. Steve had picked it up relatively quickly, and soon even Thor was getting the hang of it. The god had especially loved the Rainbow Road, claiming it reminded him of the Bifrost. Overall, it was a great afternoon but they hadn’t eaten anything and he was starving. He went over to the fridge to hunt down some leftover pasta, and found all his empty shelves had been filled with…liver?

_Oh._

One of his many health defects was a vitamin B12 deficiency. Now, he just had to take a supplement every morning. But back in the 30s, he had to either drink a huge amount of liver juice or eat lots of raw liver. It had almost been worse than the asthma in that regard. Even when Sarah was still alive, Bucky had _always_ been the one to make sure he got enough liver. Liver hadn’t been very cheap, yet somehow he would find a way to get Steve enough (he suspected theft, but every time he brought it up Bucky dodged the question). No one else on the team could’ve known. He doubted most of the team even knew about his B12 deficiency, let alone how it was treated during his childhood. So that _had_ to mean it was…

Steve went very still, trying not to get his hopes up and failing miserably. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the Potomac, he didn’t know how much (if any) of his life before he became Hydra’s weapon he remembered, but all the same he couldn’t help but believe this had to be Bucky’s doing. He needed to prove it, he just didn’t know how. He knew any video or audio recording device he set up would be found almost immediately by any trained assassin, especially one as efficient as the Winter Soldier. Besides, he didn’t want to spook him into never returning. Faking sleep was not an option, either, because even as children Bucky had known if he was really asleep or just pretending.

He sighed and decided he could think about it after he’d eaten his bowl of pasta. An empty stomach was never helpful when making plans of any sort.

 

* * *

 

Two nights later, Steve was lying in bed and feeling very nervous. He was also cold, because he had left off all of his blankets, kept the window open, and worn only thin, blue pajama pants and a cotton t-shirt to bed. He knew it was likely he’d get a cold from this, and he could hear in his head what Sam would say if he knew he was doing this, but he honestly did not care. If he had bundled up, Bucky probably wouldn’t bother coming in if he could see Steve was taken care of for the time being, knowing Steve was awake (he did not doubt that Bucky could still tell whether he was faking or not). But Steve hoped, he prayed that if he saw him needing to warm up he’d come in even knowing Steve hadn’t fallen asleep yet. He had to have broken through at least some of his programming or else he wouldn’t have bothered with the blankets and medicine and liver in the first place. Still, Steve didn’t even know how Bucky got into his apartment or when. He could be lying here another ten seconds before he arrived or maybe several hours. He was prepared to wait however long it took.

Steve hatedthe cold, absolutely _hated_ the reminder of all those decades he spent in ice. He couldn’t remember them but still he remembered the cold, from going down into the water and waking up four years ago. Still, Bucky was more than worth any nightmare he assumed he was going to have. 

Thankfully, luck seemed to be on his side this time. He had been shivering for a little over a half an hour when he heard just the slightest noise. He assumed it was Bucky, and Steve knew if it was him, then he was deliberately making noise. Assassins had to be deadly quiet, even Natasha and Clint could spook him by appearing right behind him – or, in Clint’s case, dropping out of the ceiling tiles and air ducts.  Besides, with his partial deafness, he had trouble hearing even regular people walk around. Turning onto his other side, he looked over to the window. Sure enough, Bucky was there, carefully shutting it. He was dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a baseball hat and gloves on. He turned around and looked right at Steve. He felt like all the air had rushed from his lungs, even though his asthma was under control.

In a voice rusty from disuse, Bucky said, “You shouldn’t leave the damn window open. You’re gonna get sick, and then who’s gonna take care of you?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess I’ll find someone sooner or later, won’t I?”

Bucky glared at him menacingly. But it wasn’t the homicidal glare Steve remembered from the causeway, but rather a very familiar one. He remembered that glare always being accompanied with a scolding about how _“that’s the third fight this week, Stevie, what the hell do ya think you’re doin’?”_

He tried very, very hard not to break out into a huge grin. Judging by the look on his friend’s face, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?”

“Whatever, jerk.” Now he knew he was grinning like a dumbass, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Bucky was here, he wasn’t trying to kill him, and he was acting like he did before he went off to war. This was better than Steve could have ever dreamed.

Bucky ignored him and moved towards the closet. A few seconds later, he emerged with an old sweatshirt that Steve was positive he had accidentally stolen from Clint and tossed it at him.

“Put this on,” he said in a raspy voice. “The last thing you need is to get sick. Jesus, what were you thinkin’, wearing only that shirt to bed? Oh, right, you weren’t. And no blankets, either, god forbid you use actual common sense.”

Steve really, really couldn’t stop smiling, even as he watched the (ex?) assassin slip out of his apartment.

 

* * *

 

The next day, everyone at the tower noticed how much Steve’s mood had improved. He hadn’t been in a bad mood before, but he certainly hadn’t been smiling and whistling all the time. Of course, Stark had to add his two cents, but Steve was so happy over having seen Bucky and knowing he was at least somewhat back to himself that he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“What, did you finally lose your unicorn status or something? We should celebrate! I could call Pepper, she’s great at party planning,” he said snarkily. He ignored him, and definitely didn’t bother to correct the false assumption about his lack of sexual experience.

“I think it is grand!” exclaimed Thor, who was playing Mario Kart yet again with Jane. Steve thought the entire tower regretted letting the Hawkeyes introduce him to it. “Let the Captain be as happy as he wants, even if he does not share the reason. It is good to see our shield brother so cheerful.” Steve gave him a grateful smile. Natasha, in turn, gave the tiny blond a suspicious look. Sam and Clint were too busy arguing over who had a more accurate bird call to contribute to the conversation.

 

* * *

 

The next night, Steve set out to do what he had previously done, but before he could even open the window he heard a voice say, “Oh no you don’t. Are you trying to get sick? Leave the damn thing shut and for Christ’s sake, put on some real pajamas that’ll keep you warm.”

Steve turned around to say something, but abruptly stopped. Bucky was dressed in the same clothes he wore last night with the exception of the baseball hat, but it was obvious they had been cleaned and his hair was no longer stringy and greasy, but rather tied up into a neat bun. He had even shaved.

“You look real good, Buck,” he said, climbing into bed. Before he could pull up the blankets for himself, Bucky was already doing it. “I don’t need to be tucked in like a kid, ya know.”

“Apparently you do, since you couldn’t seem to figure out blankets last night,” he responded without missing a beat.

“Do you remember…” Steve began nervously, biting his lip. He didn’t know if Bucky wanted to play the ‘do you remember’ game, but he had to ask. “Do you remember how we used to keep warm in winter, when our blankets weren’t enough?”

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks and looked at him. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“Do you think you’d maybe wanna try it again, here?” he asked.

His movements very slow and careful, Bucky walked towards the bed and began to lie down next to Steve. He was on his back, stiff as a board for about thirty seconds until finally he began to relax, turned on his side, and started spooning Steve.

“We…used to do this a lot.” he said, sounding slightly confused, like he couldn’t tell if it was a real memory or not.

“Yeah, Buck. We did.”

“Not just in the winter to keep you warm. We also did this…because we wanted to?” His words were slow and halting, like he was unsure if he should even be talking or not. Steve’s heart broke for him just a little more with every word. It was quiet and after a while he could feel himself drifting off to sleep when Bucky spoke, words halting and stilted.

“It was hard to recognize you. On the bridge, I mean. And the – on the Helicarrier, too. I remembered. I,” he paused for a minute, gathering his thoughts. “I _did_ remember you. I knew I knew you. But I just. It was hard, you were all different. And then after I tried to kill you on the Helicarrier,” he continued on, speaking through Steve’s protests of “you saved me, you pulled me out, you didn’t let me drown”. Steve wasn’t sure if it was because he was ignoring him or was too caught up in his mind to even hear him. “I spent a lot of time alone. I remembered things. I remembered you. But you seemed wrong somehow and I didn’t know how. I got confused. But when I saw you like this, it was easy to remember. I recognized you easier. Before, you were too big. And now you’re like this, and it’s helping me remember even more. Because you were familiar on the causeway, but now…you feel like a part of me. For every memory about the man I used to be that I remember, you’re almost always there.”

Steve could feel tears trickling down his face and took a minute to get his emotions under control. Finally, he said, “And you’re a part of me. Always have been, always will be.”

Bucky stayed silent after that, and they slowly fell asleep together. When Steve woke, the bed was empty but the spot behind him was still warm.  

 

* * *

 

The next night, Steve felt Bucky climb into the bed, lying on top of the covers that Steve was under just like he had done the previous night. Soon enough, he had wrapped his body around the smaller man’s. Steve sighed happily. He could get used to this. After that, they fell into a pattern. Steve no longer deliberately made himself cold, Bucky just came anyway. He showed up almost every night to fall asleep with him, but no matter how hard Steve tried to wake up early, Bucky was always gone before he woke. Still, he couldn’t really complain. He had his best friend back for the most part. There were nights when Bucky never showed up and other nights when he came but was more Winter Soldier than Bucky. And the nightmares woke them both up almost every night. Still, Steve was incredibly grateful for the time they spent together and valued it more than anything, even if he was asleep for most of it.

Finally, about two and a half months after the Ultron ordeal ended and he had become small and asthmatic again, the science team seemed to have a solution.

“We’ve been trying to directly overwrite what Ultron did to your DNA,” Bruce explained. “Until finally Bobbi decided we needed to try something else because that wasn’t working. So we didn’t exactly replicate Erskine’s serum, but we did find our own serum that would trick your cells into believing they had his real serum, therefore mimicking the work he did. It’s like you forgetting how to ride a bicycle, and we’re just giving you a kick starter lesson – you’ll know what to do from there.” He looked a little embarrassed for a second. “Sorry it took so long. And we haven’t exactly field tested it. This only gives someone who’s been de-serumed back the serum body, and since you’re the original serum’s only successful test case,” he trailed off.

“We understand if you don’t want to take the risks,” Jane said. “It is a gamble. But it’s all we’ve got right now.”

Steve sighed. He really did want his super soldier body back. He was tired of people patronizing him and running out of breath just walking up the stairs to his apartment. And it wasn’t like this was the first time he would be administered an untested serum. “It’s okay, I trust you guys,” he said. “When are we doing this?”

“We can do it as soon as tomorrow,” Tony said. “Really, we could do it right now, it’s all ready and everything, but you can’t have any food or drink in your system for twenty four hours. Sorry. But hey, once you’re all huge and muscly again, we can go out for shawarma, right?”

Bruce groaned.

 

* * *

 

Steve wasn’t _scared_ , per se, but he wasn’t exactly relaxed. He kept telling himself if one genius could make him a successful super soldier serum, surely four (plus Coulson’s team member) could figure out how to give it back to him. He was glad most of his team came. Sam and Nat were sitting by his bed, their presence itself comforting, while Clint told bad jokes to get him to crack up.

“Ready for another?” he asked as Tony put an IV into his arm. “Where do animals go when their tail falls off?”

Steve grinned. “I dunno, Clint, where?”

“The retail store!”

“Okay, okay, enough of the terrible jokes already,” Bobbi said, pushing past Sam and rolling her eyes at Barton. “We’re about to start the procedure for real. Which means anyone who isn’t directly involved needs to get out – and no, don’t try those puppy dog eyes on me, Clinton.”

Tony scoffed, “Clinton?”

Natasha pushed the boys out before her teammates could get into an argument. From then on, it was strictly business. The procedure hurt, as he knew growing almost a foot and a hundred pounds of muscle would, but it wasn’t unbearable. Soon enough, he was back into his massive body and couldn’t feel his lungs wheezing.

“And Cap is back!” announced Sam excitedly from behind the plastic barrier. The four scientists were grinning huge smiles of relief and high fiving each other. Steve smiled tiredly at them.

“You think we should throw a party?” asked Tony. “Like I said, Pepper loves planning parties. Oh, maybe we should get…” he trailed off, phone already out of his pocket.

“Thanks, everyone,” Steve said. “But maybe another time. Becoming a super soldier takes a lot out of a guy and honestly I just want to go home and nap.”

After a few more fist bumps and slaps on the chest from his team, he was on his way to Brooklyn. He hadn’t been lying, either. The night after his first procedure, all those years ago, he had gone to bed and ended up sleeping for fifteen hours. Of course, that could also be attributed to having to test his new body so quickly, but either way he felt he should find his bed before he crashed on one of Stark’s couches. He’d probably wake up with whipped cream all over his face.

 

* * *

 

Steve tossed and turned in bed. He was exhausted after the post-procedure energy rush was over, but he couldn’t sleep. It was a little past midnight, and Bucky still hadn’t shown up. He was usually at his apartment around ten, so what was taking him so long? Just then, he heard the faintest noise. It sounded like a very soft thump. Anyone without super hearing would’ve missed it, and even with his enhancements he had to strain to hear it.

“Bucky?”

He sat up and looked around. Sure enough, Bucky had been hiding behind his bookshelf and had just moved into his field of vision. “What are you doing, why aren’t you coming to bed?” he asked.

Bucky froze. “I didn’t know I was still welcome.”

“Of course you are! Don’t be ridiculous, you’re always welcome to spend the night. And you’re also more than welcome to stay for the day, Buck, you know that.”

Bucky’s eyes shifted from side to side and he scratched the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I am?”

Steve held his hand out invitingly. “Of course you are. Now how’s about we get a good night’s sleep?”

Bucky shuffled closer to him but did not take his hand nor get in the bed. “It’s just,” he suddenly burst out after a minute of silence. “You’re big again.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I am. Good observation,” he teased.

Bucky frowned. “Then what the hell d’ya need me for? You’re plenty warm now. Jesus, you’re like a goddamn furnace.”

Steve sat up straighter, spine as straight as metal. He tried to speak but was having trouble processing the fact that Bucky, his best friend in the entire world, thought he only wanted him here to keep warm. His heart nearly broke for him and he felt a familiar urge rising up in him to viciously and mercilessly harm anyone in Hydra who had had a hand in making Bucky feel like a tool to be used when necessary and then discarded.

“I want you to stay as long as you’d like, and I want to help you with anything you need,” he said. “I need you because you’re my friend. Please come to bed. Please stay with me,”

Bucky looked at him. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Okay.” He climbed into bed, got under the covers for the first time, and wrapped his arms around Steve.

When Steve woke up the next morning, he wasn’t alone.

 


End file.
